The Maisey Yates Collection : Cowboy Heroes: Take Me, Cowboy / Hold Me, Cowboy / Seduce Me, Cowboy / Claim Me, Cowboy / The Rancher's Baby

“And if I lose it?”

“You’ll have no one to blame but yourself.”

Chase thought back to the day his parents died. That was a kind of pain he hadn’t even known existed. But, as guilty as he had felt, as many promises as he had made at his father’s grave site, he couldn’t blame himself for their death. It had been an accident. That was the simple truth.

But if he lost Anna now... Pushing her away hadn’t been an accident. It was in his control. Fully and absolutely. And if he lost her, then it was on him.

He thought of her face as she had turned away from him, as she had gotten into her truck.

She had trusted him. His prickly Anna had trusted him with her feelings. Her vulnerability. A gift that he had never known her to give to anybody. And he had rejected it. He was no better than he had been as an angry sixteen-year-old, hurtling around the curves of the road that had destroyed his family, daring it to take him, too.

Anna, who had already endured the rejection of a mother, the silent rejection of who she was from her father, had dared to look him in the face and risk his rejection, too.

“I’ll do it,” Sam said, his voice rough.

“What?”

“I’m going to start...pursuing the art thing to a greater degree. I want to help. You missed this party tonight and I know it mattered to you...”

“But you hate change,” Chase reminded him.

“Yeah,” Sam said. “But I hate a lot of things. I have to do them anyway.”

“We’re still going to have to meet with investors.”

“Yeah,” Sam replied, stuffing his hands in his pockets. “I can help with that. You’re right. This is why you’re the brains and I’m the talent.”

“You’re a glorified blacksmith, Sam,” Chase said, trying to keep the tone light because if he went too deep now he might just fall apart.

“With talent. Beyond measure,” Sam said. “At least my brother has been telling me that for years.”

“Your brother is smart.” Though he currently felt anything but.

Sam shrugged. “Eh. Sometimes.” He cleared his throat. “You discovered you cared about this place too late to ever let Dad know. That’s sad. But at least Dad knew you cared about him. You know he never doubted that,” Sam said. “But, damn, bro, don’t leave it too late to let Anna know you care about her.”

Chase looked at his brother, who was usually more cynical than he was wise, and couldn’t ignore the truth ringing in his words.

Anna was the best he’d ever had. And had been for the past fifteen years of his life. Losing her...well, that was just a stupid thing to allow.

But the thing that scared him most right now was that it might already be too late. That he might have broken things beyond repair.

“And if it is too late?” he asked.

“Chase, you of all people know that when something is forged in fire it comes out the other side that much stronger.” His brother’s expression was hard, his dark eyes dead serious. “This is your fire. You’re in it now. If you let it cool, you lose your chance. So I suggest you get your ass to wherever Anna is right now and you work at fixing this. It’s either that or spend your life as a cold, useless hunk of metal that never became a damn thing.”

* * *

It had not gone as badly as she’d feared. It hadn’t gone perfectly, of course, but she had survived. The lowest point had been when Wendy Maxwell, who was still angry with Anna over the whole Chase thing, had wandered over to her and made disparaging comments about last season’s colors and cuts, all the while implying that Anna’s dress was somehow below the height of fashion. Which, whatever. She had gotten the dress on clearance, so it probably was. Anna might care about looking nice, but she didn’t give a rat’s ass about fashion.

She gave a couple of rat’s asses about what had happened next.

Where’s Chase?

Her newfound commitment to honesty and emotions had compelled her to answer honestly.

We broke up. I’m pretty upset about it.

The other woman had been in no way sympathetic and had in fact proceeded to smug all over the rest of the conversation. But she wasn’t going to focus on the low.

The highs had included talking to several people whom she was going to be working with in the future. And getting two different phone numbers. She had made conversation. She had felt...like she belonged. And she didn’t really think it had anything to do with the dress. Just with her. When you had already put everything out there and had it rejected, what was there to fear beyond that?

She sighed as she pulled into her driveway, straightening when she saw that there was a truck already there.

Chase’s truck.

She put her own into Park, killing the engine and getting out. “What are you doing here, McCormack?” She was furious now. She was all dressed up, wearing her gorgeous dress, and she had just weathered that party on her own, and now he was here. She was going to punch his face.

Chase was sitting on her porch, wearing well-worn jeans and a tight black T-shirt, his cowboy hat firmly in place. He stood up, and as he began to walk toward her, Anna felt a raindrop fall from the sky. Because of course. He was here to kick her while she was down, almost certainly, and it was going to rain.

Thanks, Oregon.

“I came to see you.” He stopped, looking her over, his jaw slightly slack. “I’m really glad that I did.”

“Stop checking me out. You don’t get to look at me like that. I did not put this dress on for you.”

“I know.”

“No, you don’t know. I put this dress on for me. Because I wanted to look beautiful. Because I didn’t care if anybody thought I was pretty enough, or if I’m not fashionable enough for Wendy the mule-faced ex-cheerleader. I did it because I cared. I do that now. I care. For me. Not for you.”

She started to storm past him, the raindrops beginning to fall harder, thicker. He grabbed her arm and stopped her, twirling her toward him. “Don’t walk away. Please.”

“Give me a reason to stop walking.”

“I’ve been doing a lot of thinking. And hammering.”

“Real hammering, or is this some kind of a euphemism to let me know you’re lonely?”

“Actual hammering. I didn’t feel like I deserved anything else. Not after what happened.”

“You don’t. You don’t deserve to masturbate ever again.”

“Anna...”

“No,” she said. “I can’t do this. I can’t just have a little taste of you. Not when I know what we can have. We can be everything. At first it was like you were my friend, but also we were sleeping together. And I looked at you as two different men. Chase, my friend. And Chase, the guy who was really good with his hands. And his mouth, and his tongue. You get the idea.” She swallowed hard, her throat getting tight. “But at some point...it all blended together. And I can’t separate it anymore. I just can’t. I can’t pull the love that I feel for you out of my chest and keep the friendship. Because they’re all wrapped up in each other. And they’ve become the same thing.”

“It’s all or nothing,” he said, his voice rough.

“Exactly.”